Thrust!

Sexy name for a late-night show, huh?

One of my mentors has taken to continued his trend of shameless self-promotion lately.

I have decided to follow in his footsteps. I'll be performing in a late night show this July at Stark Raving Theatre. The show, Thrust, consists of eight actors performing original material. It deals with mature themes (lots of sex) and has some nudity as well. I'm going to share with you a monologue I wrote for the show just to give you an idea of the material:

Bathhouse Lessons
TODD enters in bathrobe, shower cap, barefoot. He holds a rubber duck.

TODD: The first time I went to a bathhouse it was painfully clear I was a little out of my element. Most of my previous sexual experiences had been with one man in a committed relationship that begin almost immediately after I came out of the closet and ended nearly seven years later.

The bathhouse became my training ground. I was starved for sex. My appetite was voracious. I learned my lessons like an honor student within the hallowed halls of a sex club.

The first lesson was pretty painful. Physically, I mean. My ass hurt for days. No, wait. That's not what I mean. Not that kind of ass pain. That lesson came later.

My first lesson came as I walked down a dark hallway towards a dark-eyed hunk wearing a towel around his waist. We looked at each other with hunger. We approached each other seductively. He smiled at me. Then I...

I slipped and fell on my ass.

The hunk stopped and stared with a stunned expression. I looked up and said, "ouch".

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes. The floor is wet."

"Why didn't you get flip flops?"

"I thought they cost extra," I answered.

Lesson One: Get the flip-flops. And, no, they don't cost extra.

Once I had the basic gear down, I learned to navigate my way through dim corridors of carnal lust. Wandering into tiny rooms and shutting the door, I would climb onto mattresses and climb onto men. Sometimes there were two men at once, or there may be three or four men inviting me to join them in a steam room orgy.

I walked away from guys who didn't turn me on, and guys walked away from me. But I always found somebody to play with.

Lesson Two: If you can't find a playmate, keep trying.

I forgot who I was in the dark hallways of the bathhouse. I forgot I was an actor. A writer. A clown. A poet. I was just a guy in a towel. But sometimes I was suddenly reminded of who I was.

One night as I was getting dressed at my locker, two bodybuilders were dressing next to me. I overheard them trying to remember the lyrics of a song from the musical Cinderella, confirming every stereotype you've ever heard about gay men, I might add.

So, they're singing "Impossible", which is the song Cinderella's fairy godmother sings to her before magically turning her rags into a ballgown, but they couldn't remember one part of the song. Suddenly, as if a fairy godmother waved her magic wand, I changed from a guy in a towel into myself. I turned back into Todd.

I began singing to remind the bodybuilders of the lyrics. "And because those daft and dewy-eyed dopes keep building up impossible hopes, impossible things are happening every day."

We sang as we dressed. "Impossible. Impossible. Impossible. Impossible. Impossible things are happening every day."

Lesson Three: Don't forget who you are. You're more than a guy in a towel.

I had more sex in three months at the bathhouse than I had in seven years with my ex. But I never let anybody fuck me, because only one man had ever done that. So, it seemed wrong to do it with someone I didn't love, somehow.

Lesson Four...

Then one night, I decided to quit being so old-fashioned. I decided to just let it happen with this one guy at the bathhouse. And he tried to fuck me without a condom.

"You have to use a condom," I told him.

Lesson Four...

He was frustrated and sighed angrily as he opened a condom. I should have stopped him right then.

"Um. Thank you," I said.

Lesson Four....

He shoved himself into me so hard I felt sick. I cried out and told him to stop. He was furious. He took off the condom and jerked off on my chest. Then he threw the condom on me and walked away.

Lesson Four...

What, exactly, am I supposed to be learning here? Maybe I need to go to another school. Transfer my credits. This school is too hard for me...

I remember what it feels like to cry after sex. Not from pain, but from joy.
I remember what it feels like to sleep with the same man for over 2000 nights in a row.
I remember being unafraid of sexually transmitted diseases.
I remember what it feels like to smell your boyfriend's cologne while you watch him get ready for work. I remember his favorite dessert, his favorite flower, where he bought his pajamas. I remember the songs that made him want to dance.

I remember standing in the kitchen fully clothed and kissing him. I remember the trail of clothes from the kitchen into our bedroom.

Lesson Four: I can't do this anymore. It's lonely. It's not real. It's sad. I'm failing my classes. This is too hard.

I'm dropping out of this school, because I remember.

***

If you or a business you know of would be interested in sponsoring the show, here is what we can do for you...

For a $350.00 sponsorship, you will get your business name on 100 posters and 800 postcards. You'll have a special board in the lobby listing you as a sponsor. You'll also get a quarter-page ad in the program. And you'll support the arts. Send me an e-mail if you would like more information!